


Peace

by ClassicKaze (Kazewrites)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Worried Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazewrites/pseuds/ClassicKaze
Summary: After the bus ride, Aziraphale has a lot on his mind.





	Peace

Time.

Usually not even noticed, especially by angels. Days, months, years, even centuries could pass as quickly as sand slipping through fingers.

He'd never paid much attention to time. It waxed, waned and if a particular demon was involved, sometimes stopped.

Now though.

Since stepping on that bus, grasping Crowley's hand as he sat and exhaling a silent prayer when the demon did not let go; the seconds ticked by slower than Aziraphale had ever remembered.

The ride back to London had been near silent. Only the hum on the bus lulling the few passengers into a sense of calm.

They'd passed the burned bookshop, thankfully it was too dark but Aziraphale had unmistakably felt Crowley's grip on his hand tighten.

Not until they were under the dim lights of Crowley's flat had the angel noticed how spent Crowley looked. The demon passed out on his bed not long after. The angel who sat awkwardly at the end of the bed studied his friend. For a being that never aged, Crowley looked ancient.

Aziraphale had a sneaking suspicion he looked the same. A heavy sensation weighed him down, a feeling that he'd first felt at the bandstand. 

Oh the awful things he'd said.

_We are an angel and a demon. _

_I don't even like you._

_You do._

Aziraphale hadn't even been able to look Crowley in the eyes, no wonder he'd seen through the lie.

_It's over._

Shuffling up, Aziraphale began to pace, hands knitting together.

_Do something. Or I'll never talk to you again._

He stopped in front of the grand window looking out over the whole of London. How could he have said those things?

Inhaling sharply, the dull ache he felt in his chest rose. 

_I rather made a mess of things._

That had been true.

"Angel?"

He whipped around, lost in his own thoughts he had not heard Crowley. The demon stood barely a pace in front of him, snake eyes bent in concern. If possible it made Aziraphale feel even worse.

"What's wrong?"

His lip quivered, averting his gaze away, he attempted to step back but a hand reached out cupping his shoulder. The touch so warm and gentle. A touch he'd dreamed of since 1941. He didn't deserve such a feeling.

A wetness formed near the edges of his eyes. "Oh Crowley...I'm...so-so sorry..." Aziraphale barely whispered finally meeting Crowley's eyes. "I said things..." He forced his trembling voice to work, "I-I..."

"Shhhhhh."

Crowley's lips were mere inches from his face as the demon stepped closer. His arms up around Aziraphale pulling him closer. The warm breath caressing his cheek. A stray tear ran down his face.

"My angel." Crowley leaned in kissing away the tear.

It was too much.

The weight he'd been carrying, the weight of 60 centuries of following rules and orders suddenly began to feel lighter as Crowley's lips met his face.

Too much.

Aziraphale grabbed onto him, sobbing hysterically. The heavy burden eased as the tears seeped into Crowley's jacket. 

"C-can you...e-ever forgive me?"

He knew the answer. But he still needed to hear it. He needed to hear those words spoken from the only person in Heaven or Hell he believed in anymore.

"For what?" 

It was said so nonchalantly, so gently, Aziraphale physically pulled back. Nearly nose to nose with Crowley who only had a simple smile on his face.

Aziraphale's lip quivered again but he managed a nod. "You're too kind."

Without a word, Crowley led him to the bed. They lay together. Entangled in limbs. Finally.

Finally.

He felt peace.

Suddenly the night that never seemed to want to end spun into dawn.

Time to play with fire.

**Author's Note:**

> It's bothered me since finishing Good Omens that Azriaphale never apologized to Crowley for his behavior. So I wrote my own version.


End file.
